It's such a practiced motion that his lack of gloves is not on his mind. So the moment he feels flesh against his own hand, he feels the sudden dizzying vertigo wash over him. Yet he manages to hold himself on his feet, to speak of the training and attempts to get him to enter the military even though his voice sounds distant and hollow to himself. He would need gloves and quickly or he was going to prove his weakness to more than those that knew him well.

"I don't think forcing them to participate in their military is going to do much to inspire loyalty either," he says, speaking from being in that position. Though he hadn't kidnapped any for their loyalty. Bought out their debts, certainly, but not kidnapping.

"Small science is a term for what I've heard others refer to as magic here. The abilities to manipulate the reality of an object and make it bend to your will." He wonders if she noticed his uncertainty in the wake of the shake from that look, though he can't help the curiosity he holds for that word. "Biotic?"